


Nine Months

by Earth_Phoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunkenness, M/M, Mild Smut, Mpreg, One Night Stands, POV First Person, Pregnant Sex, Sane Tom Riddle, Top Cedric Diggory, Unplanned Pregnancy, for now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: After a drunken night out ends in one night stand, Harry discovers that he is pregnant. Which - you know - would be fine, if not the for fact Harry isn't sure who the father is. His boyfriend, or the one night stand. Harry's one night stand does remember and wants to know for sure if he's the father. With the birth fast approaching, Harry is running out of time to figure out what to do.Inspired by the wonderful 'Unplanned' by the fantastic exarite.





	1. A Drunken Night Out

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unplanned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440115) by [exarite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite). 



> Sup my darlings?!
> 
> (Oh god, ignore me, I'm just super hyper/happy today.)
> 
> This fic is sort of planned out (laughs manically.) Ok, *sort off*. In my head. 
> 
> ANYWAY, I need to thank exarite for the amazing Unplanned (which I'm going to keep shouting out, because it's fabulous) for making me want to write a pregnant Harry fic. 
> 
> And a huge thank you for the amazing Caty for Beta'ing this chapter.

_ Eight Weeks Ago _

 

The air felt warm in the small bar we had been drinking in. It was late, but none of us cared - or rather, none of us that were sober enough to care did. Ron, celebrating turning the big 3-0 had bowed out earlier. Something he would be teased for tomorrow. 

There was a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, keeping me from wanting to call it night myself. I was an adult, I reminded myself. I was allowed to stay up on school nights now.

Hmm, but also, I needed to pee. I stood, bumping hard into the table and spilling the half-drunk beers. “Oops,” I laughed. “My round when I get back.”

Neville, who was lying half asleep on the leather sofa, nodded sleepily.

I made my way slowly towards the bathroom, trying not to knock into anything else. The bar seemed quiet, small groups of drinkers tucked behind tables here and there. Most seemed to be in the same half drunk, half-asleep state that Neville was in.

I made to the bathroom with some relief. The bar was trying to become a more upscale venue and had given itself a complete overhaul. One of the benefits is that the toilets got an upgrade. Gone was the gross shabbiness that we knew in our late teens. Here now was soft leather armchairs and clean washcloths sat next to the sinks. Warm towels hung on the newly painted walls, heated with a keep warm charm.

It was, in a word, fancy.

My bladder screamed at me, and I hurried into the nearest empty stall. The relief of emptying a full bladder is more magical than any spell Hogwarts ever taught.

Feeling so much better, I washed my hands and checked my reflection in the mirror, making sure I hadn’t spilt anything down myself in the last few hours - like Dean. Dean, who had gotten so drunk he had tried to drink six pints of beer at once. It didn’t work naturally. His robes had gotten covered in beer and we’d laughed until we couldn’t breathe.

I had just dried my hands and was ready to leave when the bathroom door opened. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I stumbled back. Away from the tall figure that now stood staring at me.

I had noticed him as soon as I walked into the bar. He was sitting on a bar stool, sipping what looked to be whiskey, deep in conversation with a small brunette that looked vaguely like a Slytherin he had gone to school with but couldn’t place. Perhaps Theo? Whoever the brunette was, he was nothing compared to the man with his hands lightly wrapped around the glass tumbler.

The man turned his head and eyes locked. He had cheekbones that would drive an angel wild. A square jaw that balanced his handsome face. Intense chocolate brown eyes, shoulder length brown hair.

Desire pooled in my stomach at the sight of him. Ron poked me sharply in the ribs when he noticed where I was looking.  _ “Cedric!” _ he whispered into my ear.

He was right of course, Cedric Diggory, my boyfriend of three years was at home. I couldn’t go around drooling over random hot men. Well, I  _ could _ . There was nothing wrong with having a look.

Sweet Merlin, he was looking at  _ me _ . Standing here, in a bathroom of a club, my cosy life with Cedric felt a million miles away. We didn’t say anything. No words were needed. He moved towards me, his pace determined, his eyes turning black with desire.

I have never been one for one night stands, but the feel of his hands on my hips. His mouth nipping, licking, sucking and  _ exploring _ my throat. My chin. My face. His hands pushing my ropes apart and tracing over my stomach, I am helpless against his touch.

 

~*~

 

I don’t remember leaving the bathroom or getting home for that matter. I know I did because the morning light is invading my eyeballs and my head was in revolt. Oh, Merlin, why did I go out drinking? Because I’m a fool, a stupid fool who thinks he’s still seventeen and can drink like a fish. 

“Here.” Cedric is pressing a vial to my lips and I gulp the liquid the down, my headache clearing.

“Hey.” I smile up at him. “My saviour.” Cedric, I notice is still wearing his sleepwear. I grin and tug him down, rolling onto of him.

“Harry!” he laughs. “We have work.” He’s protesting but make no effort to move me off him.

“Mhm, because the ministry is going to fire me.” I sit up on my hunches and tug his shirt off him. “I’m sure they can spare us for a few hours.”

“Oh, only a few hours?” His voice is light as he teases me. I feel his cock begin to stir with interest beneath my hips. “I think we can do better than that.”

“Oh yeah?” I bend down to kiss him. “Prove it.” It’s a playful challenge, but Cedric, ever the sportsman can never turn a challenge down. He likes to win, he’s downright ruthless on the Quidditch pitch.

Cedric shoves me off him, climbing on top of me, I spread my legs so he can he can settle between them easier. Cedric pinned my hands above my head, kissing me ferociously. We never did make it to work that day.

 

~*~

 

Much later, when we’re tired and sated and the moonlight is shining over us through a gap in the curtains, Cedric runs a hand over my stomach. 

I duck my head under his strong jaw and press a kiss to his chest.

“Do you think it’s working?” he asks after a while and I shrug.

Cedric and I have started trying for a baby. We hadn’t told anyone, of course, there’s no point in getting people’s hopes up when male pregnancies take a while to even happen. 

“I hope so.”

 

~*~ Now ~*~

 

I stare down at my paperwork and stifle a yawn. My bones feel heavy, my eyes are threatening to droop. I let my head drop onto my desk, my eyes roaming the right wall for the clock. Six hours. Six hours before I could go home and  _ sleep _ . 

This was ridiculous, it was only Tuesday and I felt like I had been awake for a week. I lifted my head and rubbed at my eyes. Apart from my sudden need for sleep, I felt well enough. Maybe I was coming down with something? Cedric had noticed a change as well and had suggested I see a healer. I dipped my quill in ink and scribbled carelessly of a clean piece of parchment. My mind wasn’t on work, my brain was foggy and urging me to rest.

“Harry?” Ginny’s head appeared around my door. “Have you finished the final draft yet?”

I stared at her blankly - what draft? “Er,” I said. “No, but I’m on it though.”

Ginny looked at me doubtfully. “Are you OK?” she asked.

“I’m really good.” I dropped my quill on the desk, screwing on the parchment I had been doodling on and throwing into the wastepaper basket. The action seemed to jog something in my foggy brain. Waste. It was ringing a bell.

“Well, OK, if you’re sure.” Ginny still had that doubtful look on her face. “You’ve seemed pretty out of it for a couple of days now.”

“Ah, well, y’know,” I shrug. “I’m not as young as I used to be - it takes me longer to recover from the weekends.” I give her a reassuring smile. Oh! It clicked the Regulation Of Alcohol Disposal - the new bill that dealt with alcohol waste. Right. Yes, I had started that actually.

“It should be done by the end of the day.” I sound confident, I  _ feel _ confident. I can bullshit my way through a draft easily. I did for years with homework.

Ginny gives me one more look, before leaving. I slump deeper into my chair. I’m so grateful I have Ginny in my department, why she chose to go into The Regulation of Magical Alcohol and Beverages Department I’m not sure. I’ve never asked, perhaps like me she just wanted a boring desk job after the war.

Sitting up, I flick through the mess of parchment on my desk, one day I would get around to cleaning it. I punch the air as I find the draft. Rolling my neck, I set apart actually doing some work. Maybe that will convince people that I’m alright.

By Friday, Cedric has booked me an appointment to see a Healer. He ignores all my protests and assurances that actually I’m fine, thank you very much.

I’m supposed to swing by St Mungo’s and see Healer Klein after I finish work. I part of me wants to sulk and not go. I am twenty-nine years old. I do not need to visit a Healer if I don’t want to. Besides, being tired is normal.

I huff through work, my thoughts drifting to St. Mungos. I try to imagine what Healer Klein is going to be like. Horrible, I decide. A tall, mean spirited person who is going to complain about me wasting their time. Like, Snape.

The thought of Snape makes me repress a shudder. Right, I don’t need to be thinking about the bat when I’m already in a bad mood. Though I do thank Merlin that I am not a student now. I can only imagine the hell he’s putting the poor students through as an injured war veteran.

I leave work early, hoping that I can get in and out of St. Mungo’s quickly. It’s just my luck that they are running late in the drop in part of the hospital. The wait seems to stretch on forever before my name is called.

I shuffle into the treatment room, excuses ready on my lips.

“Hello, Mr. Potter, I’m Healer Klein.” Klein turns out to be a handsome redhead man with a well-trimmed beard, an easy smile and kind eyes.

“Hello,” I say, disgruntled. “This isn’t necessary, I just have an overprotective boyfriend.”

“Hm,” he says, takes out his wand anyway. “Just sit on the bed and we’ll see how it goes.”

No, I want to say, but I do as I’m told. Klein waves his wand at me, murmuring spells as he does. I twitch, I still don’t like when people point wands at me.

A frown begins to form between Healer Klein's eyes and I sigh inwardly.

“May I call you, Harry?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Harry, I have some… delicate questions to ask if that’s OK?”

I pause, feeling nervous. I lick my dry lips. “Sure,”

“Harry.” Healer Klein looks at me with a sudden sternness that takes my breath away. “Are you using protection?”

“From what?”

“Sex,” he says patiently.

“Oh!” I blush. “No - well-” Oh Merlin. “Cedric - my boyfriend and I have been talking about maybe, you know, trying for kids, but we heard it takes a while for men.”

Healer Klein nods and casts another spell. “Have you been sexually active in the last eight weeks?”

“Yes.” I can feel my blush deepening and spreading down my neck.

“How have you been feeling lately? Your notes say you’ve been fatigued?”

I scratch the back of my neck. “Well yeah - I mean, I’ve had a couple of headaches, but nothing I would be worried about.”

“Hm,” he says again and picks up a calendar of the small desk in the corner of the room. “Were you having sex around late February, early March?”

A hazy image of me, pinned against a bathroom wall, my legs wrapped around a strangers waist as he pumps into me fills my mind. I pale. “Yes.”

Oh no.  _ Oh no _ . Ron’s birthday. That hot guy at the bar. Cedric. My head swims and for a moment I feel dizzy. Shit. Shit.  _ Shit _ .

“Harry?” Klein looks concerned. “Lie down a minute.”

I’m not sure how lying down is supposed to make me feel better, but OK. I lie down on the hard leather and feel, well, less dizzy. Hooray!

“Want to explain what happened there?” Klein asks. No, is the honest answer.

“I - I, had unprotected sex with someone that wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Klein sounds like he’s heard this all before, and maybe he has. Fabulous, I’ve become a statistic. “That would complicate matters.”

“So, I am -?” I let the question hang, afraid to say it out loud until he confirms it.

“Congratulations Mr. Potter, you are about eight weeks pregnant,” he says gently. “I would say - and this is an early estimate - that the baby is due between early November to early December. I can’t give you anything more than that at this stage.”

“How soon can you tell who the father is?” I ask. “It has to be Cedric, right?” My mouth is very dry right now. “You can’t get pregnant by having sex one time.”

Healer Klein looks at me with pity in his blue eyes, “I’m sorry to tell you, but yes, you can get pregnant by having sex just once - even with male pregnancies. If you’re having sex without protection, you risk becoming pregnant.” He looks stern again.

“Fuck.”

“As for your first question, it’s too early to tell. Right now the baby is the size of a raspberry. As the baby develops we’ll be able to do more.”

I stare numbly at the off white ceiling. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “W-what do I have to do now? I mean-”

Klein smiles kindly at me. “The next step is a visit with the midwife and setting up antenatal visits.”

I breathe out slowly. “OK.”

“You can sit up now,” Klein says moving towards the desk. I sit up, swinging my legs back and forth idly.

“Is there anything else I need to know? I can still work right?”

“Right, you should be able to work for another few months yet. Have you felt sick at all?”

I shake my head.

“Hm, that’s good. Not everyone gets morning sickness, but be aware - just because you haven’t felt sick yet doesn’t mean you  _ won’t _ .”

He hands me a leaflet. “I suggest you tell your boyfriend at least, and if you know - the other man who may be the father. Other than that, I’d advise against telling anyone else until you’re 12 weeks.”

“Thank you.” I slip the leaflet into my robe pocket.

“And listen to your body.” He looks at me sharply. “If you need to sleep -  _ sleep _ . Your body knows what it needs to keep you and that baby healthy.”

“Right.” I run my hand through my already messy hair. “Thanks again.” I promise to come back in two weeks so Healer Klein can see how I’m doing and leave.

I drag my feet out of St. Mungo’s slowly. The idea of going home and facing Cedric chills me to my core. I know one thing - there is no way I am telling him what happened at the bar. Nope. The baby has to be Cedric’s,  _ it has to _ .


	2. Chapter Two: A Surprising Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry *thinks* he remembers what happened at the bar, but does he really? Harry is about to get a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the awesome RedHorse for beta'ing this chapter. (Seriously, stop reading this and go read 'Ride'! It's amazing.)

Before I go home, I walk a little to clear my head, trying to push my doubts away. As I turn a corner onto some Muggle street I don’t recognise, a mother and baby store looms in front of me. I cross the road without thinking and wander inside. 

 

Rows of prams, Moses baskets and baby carriers line the walls. Clothes and toys are crammed into every inch of shelf space. 

 

Tired-looking pregnant women peer critically at the safety requirements, while also trying to not to look too closely at the price tags. 

 

I walk up and down the aisles, ignoring the odd looks I receive. I’m still wearing my work robes. Out of habit, I still carry Muggle money on me. Though usually, I remember to change before shopping in the Muggle world. 

 

I spot two beige-coloured teddy bears cuddling a small baby bear and grin to myself. 

Ten minutes later, I open my front door. I can smell dinner, which means I’m more than a little late. Cedric, bless, has a thing for being on time — something I have never quite mastered. I shuck off my shoes and walk quietly down the hallway. I can hear Cedric humming softly to himself and as I peer around the kitchen door, I see him placing the food on the table.

“Hey.” Cedric looks up in surprise, his face softening into a smile as he sees me, “there you are! Come on, you can tell me about the Healer visit while we eat.” Cedric moves to take his seat. “Though really, we do have to work on your punctuality.”

I grin lazily at him. “I can show you what happened.” Cedric looks confused and I can’t help the excitement I feel.

I move into the room and kneel at his feet. “Close your eyes.”

Cedric looks at me balefully but complies.

I take out the teddy bears that I shrunk before I entered, resize them and place them on Cedric’s outstretched hands.

“Ta-dah.”

Cedric opens his eyes and stares down at the teddy bear family like he can’t quite figure out why they are there. He looks up at me. “Harry, what?”

“You’re going to be the hottest dad in the playground.”

The pieces click into place and Cedric all but throws himself at me, careful of my stomach. He buries his face in my hair and we laugh, wild and free. The future seems brighter and happier than ever before. Dinner lays forgotten on the table and Cedric takes my hand land leads me into the bedroom.

That night, as Cedric sleeps curled next to me, his hand splayed across my stomach, my mind drifts to the bar and the stranger I can no longer remember. The man’s face has become blurred in my mind and try as I might, I can’t recall any of his features. Tall, short, handsome, ugly—I can’t be sure.

As my eyes drift closed at long last, my last thought is that, whoever he is, I am unlikely to ever see him again.

 

~*~

 

Cedric is bursting at the seams, desperate to break to the news to his father, and it’s the cutest thing. I watch, propped up in bed as Cedric places the teddy bear family on the chest of drawers with great care. There’s a sappy smile on his face and I can’t help the smile on mine. I love seeing him this happy.  

“We should do something,” Cedric says as he turns back to the bed.

“We did  _ do _ something.” I pat my stomach and Cedric laughs.

“I guess so.” He crawls towards me on the bed, a gleam in his eye. “I meant to surprise everyone with the news.” I tilt my head up and he kisses me deeply, making me breathless with desire.

“Ah yes, we have to warn people that another Potter is coming to cause trouble.” I pause. “We should tell Snape first, he’s going to have a heart attack.”

Cedric laughs as he places kisses around my jaw, and I close my eyes in pleasure. “Do you have to work today?” he asks as his teeth nip at my throat.

I sigh, “I hate to say it, but yes. It’s license day.”

Ah, license day. The day that gives myself and my department the most headaches, as every bar, pub, restaurant and club owner descend on our humble little corner of the Ministry because they have to renew their license before midnight. This, of course, despite the fact that we sent out reminders months ago.

Cedric stifles a laugh against my chest. “I forgot about license day, good luck.” He offers me a playful smirk and moves lower.

Kissing over my stomach (a lot of kisses there, which warms my heart), he comes to stop teasingly at my crotch. I let out a low whine and Cedric nips at my thighs in response. My legs fall open and Cedric settles between them with ease and then takes my half-aroused cock into his mouth and I lose all track of my thoughts.

 

~*~

 

By the time I arrive at work only an hour late, my department is swamped. Fantastic. We’re crammed into the smallest part of the Ministry, which usually isn’t much of an issue. With me are Ginny; Greyson, a Ravenclaw two years below me, and Beverly, a quiet Hufflepuff from Ginny’s year.

Already there are lines of impatient bar owners with documents crushed up in their hands. I offer apologetic waves to my team before slipping into my office.

I have just shrugged off my outer robe when the door clicks open and a bar owner strides in.

“Oh, Harry.” He sounds surprised to see me. “It’s been a while.”

“Hello, Mr.—?” Try as I might, I just can’t place him.

“You don’t remember me?” He sits down in the chair facing my desk, his legs crossed, his posture relaxed.

“I don’t.” I hastily sit in my chair, “I meet a lot of people — ”

“But surely you don’t shag them?”

I stare at him, fear creeping up my spine. Oh no. I clear my throat. “Ahm, I think you have mistaken me for someone else. I am currently in a long-term relationship —.”

“Ah, so you don’t want him to know?”

“There’s nothing to know.” I’m flushed; I try to force myself to relax.

He’s smirking at me. “Tom Riddle,” he says.

I hmph and flick through the folders on my desk. “You run Walpurgis Knights?”

“That’s right.”

I can hear warning bells in my head; something about that name seems familiar. I drum my fingers on the table as I try to place it.

“I recently took over the bar. We get a lot of people celebrating, birthdays for example.”

Just like that, everything clicks. Ron’s party was held at the Walpurgis Knights. Tom must be, must be — shit, shit, shit, fuck.

I fake a calm smile, all too aware that there are baby-related pamphlets on my desk. I try to clumsily rest my elbow on the desk and knock the pamphlets to the floor. I need to get him out of my office. Now.

“So, you’re here to renew your license? Nothing has changed for you recently?”

Tom seems bemused by my actions, a quizzical expression crosses his face. “Correct, I’m still the owner and we still sell liqueur.”

“Excellent!” My voice is so bright it sounds fake even to my ears. “You just need to sign this then.” I pull the required piece of parchment out of the folder and pass it over him.

“So,” he says, “When can I expect to see you back? It was quite a night.”

I scoff, “I don’t think a quickie in a bathroom ranks up there as anything special.”

He drops the quill in surprise, “Don’t you remember?” he asks quietly.

My brows knit together. “Remember what?”

“It was more than just a quickie.”

I can feel my face draining of colour. “It was?” My throat is tight, my heart is hammering in my chest.

He smirks, “We went upstairs — I live in the loft over the bar. It was... you were...,” he trails off, lost in the memories.

I don’t remember any of this. Was I really that stupid? I am never drinking ever again. Not ever. Not even a teeny tiny sip.

“In any case,” I clear my throat, “it’s been lovely meeting you. Good luck with the bar.” I rise, holding my hand out formally.

He stares at my hand and remains seated. His dark eyes drift up to mine. “What’s the rush?”

“It’s a busy day and as you no doubt saw, there are a lot of people waiting to see us. So if you could...,” I gesture towards the door, my smile strained.

For one heart-stopping moment, he doesn’t move.

“Let me help you pick up those papers.”

No. Oh, sweet Merlin, he’s walking around the desk. NO.

“It’s fine!”  _ Please leave! _ I scream mentally. I take out my wand to  _ Accio _ them, but he’s already kneeling down, one long pale hand reaching for them. Fuck.

“Oh.” There’s surprise in his voice as he spots the pamphlets. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” I can feel myself starting to sweat. Why won’t he just leave? I snatch the finished license off my desk and shove it under his nose.

“So, I’ll see you next year.” I try to take the sodding pamphlets out of his hands, but he’s still kneeling by the desk, turning them over to read.

“You said you had a boyfriend,” he says slowly. “Were you trying?”

“We were.” I shrug, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. “It happened sooner than we were expecting, but…” I shrug, I really can’t complain. This is everything we’ve wanted. Cedric’s smile is still fresh in my mind.

“So...you were on Gravidus?” I do not like the thoughtful look on his face right now.

“I — yes. I mean.” I shuffle my feet. “It’s the best male fertility potion available right now.”

He hums softly to himself and then looks me square in the eye. “And you spent the night with me.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Look,” I grind out, “I only have your word on that.”

He gives me a dirty look and stands up. “Is it mine?”

“No!”

“How do you know?” He looks at me critically and I cover my stomach my with my arms.

“Because I know. It’s not yours. Get the fuck out of my office.”

He scowls at me. “If it’s mine, I want access. I want to be involved.”

My jaw drops. “Fuck right off. It  _ isn’t _ yours.”

“You were on a potion that raised your chances of getting pregnant, you were sleeping with me — ,”

“One time!”

“Four times.”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. “It doesn't matter. Leave.”

He takes the licence out of my hand, dropping the pamphlets on my seat. “Expect my owl.”

I watch him leave and I only breathe out when the door slams closed. That was — too much. I want to go home. I want to go to bed and stay there until the baby is born.

Thoughts of home become thoughts of Cedric. My stomach twists in uncomfortable knots and I fight back the urge to be sick. I have to do something about Riddle. What, I’m not quite sure, but  _ something _ .

I’m so consumed with panic, I miss a knock at the door and only come too when an angry female bar owner slams her hand on my desk, her face screwed up in a snarl.

“Excuse me, some of us don’t get paid to daydream!”

_ And some of you get your licence revoked _ , I think snidely.  

Riddle has really got under my skin, damn it. I force a smile, ignoring how much I’ve been doing that in the last half an hour and how much my cheeks hurt right now.

“I’m very sorry,” I drop heavily into my chair, “If I could take your name?”

The wind seems to go out of her sails, and she sits down wearily. I offer her my most professional attitude, flash her my most charming smile.

“Let’s get you sorted!” I say brightly, finding her folder. She seems pleased that I’m giving her my full attention, smirking in a maddening self-satisfied way.

From there, the grandfather clock in my office never seems to move. The day drags by and it feels like I’m trapped in an hourglass that is slowly filling with sand and with no way out.

By the time 5 o’clock rolls around, I am so ready to head home. Naturally, because today is not my day, I end up having to work past when I’d usually leave.  When the last person is finally seen, the four of us meet outside our offices and high five each other.

I decline the invitation to go out for a drink, promising to make it up to the team later, and finally escape.  I don’t feel stable enough to disapparate and besides, could disapparation hurt the baby? I feel like I should already know this answer, but it’s eluding me.

I Floo home, grimacing at the graceless landing. I have never quite mastered the Floo, and while I have become better at it, I prefer literally anything else. I manage to somehow get my legs underneath me and ditch my outer robe, throwing it messily on the sofa. Cedric is going to have a fit when he sees it.

I drop my glasses onto the side table and rub tiredly at my eyes. I can hear our bed calling me. My bones ache and I am so very done for the day.

“Cedric?” Usually, I can hear him cooking, but tonight the kitchen sounds oddly quiet.

I move silently through the house, my wand held tightly in my palm. The quietness of the house has me feeling tense, alert.

I’m about to head upstairs when I hear the sound of voices coming from the garden. Our garden is rather small — the price of living in London. We have a small table and chairs on the patio for when we entertain our friends during the summer.  

I head towards the garden and my blood runs cold.

“Harry!” Cedric beams at me. He’s sitting relaxed in a garden chair a bottle of red wine open on the table. He rises to greet me, his eyes coming to rest on my wand.

“Ced — I thought…” I shrug and slip my wand back into my back pocket.

“Sorry.” He wraps his arms around me, but the tension doesn’t leave my body. My eyes are glued to the black-haired man sitting in the other chair.

What in bloody hell is Tom Riddle doing in my house?

“I’ve put warming charms on dinner,” Cedric places a kiss on my cheek. “Tom here came to let me know you were going to be late. Good idea hiring him by the way, I always said you could use an assistant.”

Tom raises a wine glass at me.

I glare fiercely back at him. I want to get him away from Cedric as quickly as possible. No, I  _ need  _ to get him away from Cedric.

A headache begins to pulse angrily behind my eyes. The tiredness I’ve felt all day is gone. I wrap an arm tightly around Cedric.

“Well,” I manage to choke out, “I always do listen to your ideas, _ love, _ ” I stress the final word, which only seems to amuse Riddle.

Cedric looks at me critically. “Do you need to go lie down?”

The idea of leaving Cedric alone with Riddle chills my blood.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’d love a cuppa though.”

Cedric leaves my side and heads into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Riddle.

All at once I want to wring the man’s neck, throw his arse out and know every single thing he’s said to Cedric. It’s hard to decide what I want to say or do first.

“Why don’t you sit down Harry?” He pats an empty chair next to him. “After all, you have the baby to think of now.”

I ball my fists at my sides. “Shut up! No one is supposed to know.” My voice sounds more pleading than angry.

He looks at me thoughtfully. “I haven’t said anything — yet.”

“Please leave,” I plead. “Come to my office tomorrow and we’ll talk.”

“We’d better.” Riddle rises, his steps brisk. “I hope this impresses on you how seriously I am taking this.”

I smile tightly at him. “Oh, it’s made an impression.”

Riddle brushes past me and I hear him talking softly to Cedric and then the sound of the front door opening and closing.

I stagger forwards and sink down into a chair, my head in my hands. This situation is slowly slipping out of my control. Questions buzz around my head, mostly concerning Riddle.

The fact he knows where I live and feels confident enough to speak to Cedric is worrying.  One thing is for sure, I see a return visit to St. Mungos in my future.


	3. Chapter Three: Saturdays With Tom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry talks to Tom and visits the Healer with Cedric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Essa (Exarite) for the amazing Beta! <3 <3 <3

The following morning, I decide the best way to handle Riddle is to talk to him head-on. I send Hedwig to Ginny, letting her know I won’t be in the office that morning due to a Doctor’s visit. Then I head straight to Walpurgis Knights. 

The bar is closed when I arrive. The doors are locked from the inside. I figure there has to be a private entrance for the workers, so I head down the side street next to the bar. There is indeed a large metal door with the word ‘EMPOLYEES ONLY’ stamped across it. I knock loudly on the metal door and wait.

A warm breeze ruffles my hair as I wait, and I’m glad this is happening in springtime. Eventually, the door swings open and Riddle stands there. He’s wearing a loose fitting pair of black silk shorts, his hair mused as if he just got out of bed. Perhaps he has.

I avert my eyes and clear my throat. “You wanted to talk,” I say.

“Come in.” His voice sounds thick, he leans against the door as he yawns.  I step past him into the bar.

This part of the bar is eerily empty.  The long hallway I find myself standing in is dim. Riddle closes the door and turns right, up a steep set of curved stairs. I follow him, discovering that I am more out of shape than I thought and wondering how I’m supposed to climb these stairs while heavily pregnant.

Which is ridiculous, because I won’t be climbing these stairs then.

At the top of the stairs, Riddle slips out his wand — where was he hiding that? — and murmurs a quiet spell. The ward shimmers then falls away, revealing a spacious two-story loft.

Two beautiful floor to ceiling windows dominates the left wall, drenching the room in sunlight. The walls are exposed brick. It’s beautiful.

“Nice place,” I say.

Riddle shrugs. “Thanks.”

We cross into the centre of the room where Riddle drops into a worn brown leather sofa. There’s a matching armchair nearby, so I claim that.

Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to say.

“You can’t be around Cedric,” I say after a moment and Riddle laughs.

“Have you ever thought about telling him the truth?” He leans back and flicks his wand to the kitchen area, and a teapot and two cups fly towards us.

I flush, ashamed. “I’ve never cheated before,” which is the truth, though I’m not sure he believes me. “It would break his heart.”

Riddle hands me a cup and I grasp it to have something to do with my hands.

“Would the cheating break his heart, or would the baby not being his do it?” Riddle asks. His voice is losing the thickness it had as he wakes up.

I look down at the teacup in my hands. “I would rather not find out,” I admit. “I know that makes me a coward, but…” I let my sentence trail off.

Riddle sighs, “I don’t want to be an asshole, but I take my responsibilities seriously.” He looks at me sternly. “ _ If _ the child is mine, then I want to be a father. You can’t deny me that.”

I feel like a bastard. “If you are, then I’d like you to be part of the child’s life,” I hesitate, “It would be beneficial to my life if you weren’t - because of Cedric. Because if you’re not, then mine and Cedric’s life doesn’t change.”

Riddle places the cup down on the rough wooden coffee table. “You know where I am now, so I expect you to keep me in the loop.” He looks at me, his expression softening a little. “Speaking off, how are you?”

The question takes me by surprise. “I’m fine,” I find myself saying and then figure he deserves the truth. “I have some morning sickness, but the Healer gave me something for that. Other than that, I’m well.”

Riddle nods his head. “Good. I have a friend that is a Potions Master. f you need anything for the baby, let me know.”

“I will.” This has turned out to be much more civil than I expected it to be. “Thanks for making this easy.”

He snorts, “I have to get along with my baby daddy.” He covers his mouth as he yawns, and I can’t help but notice how well developed his chest is. “If this lovely little chat is over then I am going back to bed. You’re welcome to join me.”

“No,” I manage, trying not to look at his firm chest. I stand awkwardly, and Riddle rises to his feet.

He reaches out and wraps a hand around my arm. My skin breaks out in tingles, my mouth dry.  “Riddle,” I say quietly, “Stop.”

“It’s Tom,” is his calm reply, “You might as well call me by my name.”

I roll my eyes. “Tom, let go.”

He releases my arm, it still feels warm from his touch. I need to get out of here. “Well, thanks,” I say again. Tom looks amused at my clearly flustered state. Embarrassed, I move back towards the stairs, Tom following close behind.

“I need to lock up after you go,” he explains. Right, that makes sense. I hurry down the stairs, forgetting how awful they are.

“Fuck,” I swear. I hear Tom chuckle behind me. I turn my head and throw him a heated glare.

As soon as I’m outside, I breathe in the fresh morning air. I lean against the cold brick wall of the bar and try to asses my situation. I need to keep Tom as far away from Cedric as possible and informed and I still won’t know for sure who the father is for weeks.

I feel tired and stressed out already, and I have months ahead of me. How do people cope with being pregnant? Hermione made it look easy.

 

~*~

 

That night, I lie in bed, my mind whirling. Cedric sighs and turns over, dropping an arm over my chest.

“What’s up?” His voice is thick with sleep.

I flinch. I hadn’t meant to wake him. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep when I know you’re not. Talk to me.”

“I have…” I pause as I try to work out how to approach this. “A friend at work who's got herself into trouble and I don’t know how to help her.”

“Oh.” Cedric rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Maybe we can problem solve together.”

I hesitate. “Alright.” I take a deep breath. “So, she’s married and pregnant…”

“Mmm,” Cedric prods.

“She made a mistake - she slept with someone else and now she’s not sure who the father is. On top of that, the other man wants to know if he’s the dad so he can be involved with the baby. I’m just not sure what kind of advice to give her.”

Cedric hums beside me, “It really is a pickle,” he agrees.

We fall silent and I think he’s gone to sleep, but then he speaks.

“I’d want to know,” he says, “if I was the husband. You can’t work on a relationship if people are keeping important secrets like that.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “But,” I chew on my bottom lip. “Wouldn’t it hurt? I mean, if it was us…” I trail off.

“Yeah, it would hurt,” Cedric says quietly, “but it would hurt more finding out later when some other bloke starts hanging around and the secrets become bigger.”

I cuddle closer to Cedric. “I suppose, I feel so bad for though.”

Cedric kisses the top of my head. “You can’t save everyone from their mistakes,” he says kindly. “Just being there for her is enough. You’re a good friend Harry.”

Guilt eats away at my insides. “Cedric...”

Cedric cuts me off with a kiss. “Hush, get some rest.”

I tuck my head under his, closing my eyes. I should tell him, I decide. He needs to know.

The following morning, Cedric is up, dressed and in the kitchen before I am. There’s a parenting book on the kitchen table, along with a list written in Cedric’s neat script. I wander over and pick it up.

“Sybella?” I wrinkle my nose. “We can’t call the baby that.”

Cedric blushes. “I was just toying with ideas,”

“Besides, we don’t even know the sex yet.”

“True, we need to pick gender neutral names for now - like Ashley.”

“We need a name that won’t get our child bullied at school,” I tease. “I like the idea of giving the baby a name though, I don’t like having to call the baby ‘it’ all the time.”

Cedric slides a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me, a happy smile on his face. “Me too.” 

I play with the scrambled eggs for a moment, before taking a small bite. Cedric is by my side in an instant.

“You OK?” He brushes my hair back to feel my forehead.

“I’m fine,” I laugh him off. “I just haven’t taken the morning sickness potion yet.”

“Silly.” He flicks my ear. “I’ll go get it.”

“But it tastes so nasty,” I complain and take another small bite of eggs. “These are awesome by the way.”

While Cedric is out of the kitchen, I flip open the parenting book.  _ Chapter Three: How To Potty Train Your Toddler.  _ The picture is of a small child, his face screwed up and red as he sits on the potty. I push my eggs away.

Cedric comes back and notices my disgusted face.

“Ced...is the baby pooping inside of me?”

The question takes Cedric by surprise and for a moment he’s speechless. Laughter bubbles up from inside of him, and he’s quickly holding his stomach as he laughs.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” I mutter, put out.

“We’ll ask the Healer.” Cedric smiles once he’s able to get a hold off himself.

Right, the Healer. Keeping secrets has never been so stressful. I’ve convinced Cedric to meet me at St. Mungos. The idea of having him anywhere near the office where someone could innocently ask him how the visit went yesterday chills me to the core.

Cedric walks back into the kitchen, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. He kisses the side of my face and neck, brimming with happiness.

“We’re gonna be the best parents ever.”

“Yes, we are,” I agree.

Cedric presses the anti-nausea vial into my hands with a smile. I grimace but take my medicine. This is the least stressful part of the day.

 

~*~

 

Work drags by slowly. I jump at every knock at the door, every time Ginny says, “Harry, you have a visitor!” in a cheerful voice. 

I cope, I somehow cope, until a tiny owl flies into my office. I stare at it torn between dismay and amusement - the owl is  _ cute _ . It looks to be only 7 inches tall, with beautiful chocolate brown feathers and the most adorable owl face I’ve ever seen. I’m instantly suspicious. No one I know has an owl like this.  

It hoots softly at me, offering a tiny leg. I carefully untie the letter.

 

_ Harry, _

_ Meet me on Saturday at 3pm. You know where. _

_ T.M. Riddle.  _

 

I screw up the letter and drop into the bin. 

“Your boss is a twat,” I tell the bird. I find a clean piece of parchment and scribble a reply.

 

_ Riddle, _

_ I’ll be there. _

_ Harry. _

 

As the owl flies away, my note tied its leg, I try to push all my worry about Tom to the back of my mind. At least Tom was sticking to his side of the deal. 

 

~*~

 

Cedric meets me outside St. Mungos and engulfs me in a tight hug. I smile into his shoulder, laughing at his excitement. 

“It’s only a Healer’s visit,” I tease.

He pokes me in the ribs. “Yeah, our first as a couple!” His eyes are shining with joy and it’s infectious.

I grab his hand and squeeze. Together, we walk into the hospital and head for the private treatment rooms. Healer Klein is waiting for us, the door open wide. He raises an eyebrow at me as Cedric enters.

“This is Cedric,” I say quickly, “the overprotective boyfriend I told you about.”

“Hello, Cedric, pleasure to meet you.” I watch tensely as the two shake hands. Klien turns to me. “I hope you’ve been reading those pamphlets, Harry, and taking your nausea potions.”

I slump into a chair. “Ah—erm, sure.”

Cedric sits beside me. “He has been taking the potions, I’ve been making sure of it.”

“Well, at least I can trust one of you,” Klien high fives Cedric. “So, you’re entering into the world of sleepless nights and baby vomit. How are you both feeling?” Healer Klien folds his arms, half sitting on his office table.

“We can’t wait.” I lace my fingers with Cedric’s, bringing his knuckles to my lips. He grins at me.

“We do have some questions though,” Cedric adds. He leans forward, shooting me a sly smirk. “Harry has been wondering how the baby, er, empties its bowls.”

_ “Ced!”  _ I cover my face with my hands, while Klien and Cedric laugh.

“It’s not the strangest question I’ve been asked,” Klien’s voice is coloured with amusement. “Babies do poop, but it only happens in less than 15% of all pregnancies and most of the waste comes out during birth.”

At this, I feel my face drain of colour. Birth.  _ Birth. _ I have not given a single thought about that aspect of pregnancy. Eventually, the baby is going to have to come  _ out _ .

“Harry?”

Klien presses a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s OK, we don’t have to think about the birth just yet, but it is something we’re going to need to discuss in the future.”

Right, of course. I smile, or at least I try to, and Cedric comes to my rescue and begins asking his own questions.

Quietly, I’m panicking.  _ Birth _ . Fuck.

 

~*~

 

The rest of the week passes surprisingly smoothly. It’s as if we’re walking on clouds. Yesterday, Ginny asked to look at my hands, thinking Cedric had proposed! I wanted to tell her that this, this human life growing inside of me was so much better than some band. Only three more weeks and we can tell people. Three more weeks before  **_The Scan_ ** . 21 days. 

I can’t deny how much I’m looking forward to hearing and seeing the baby for the first name, to holding our child. A family.  _ Our  _ family.

I arrive at the Walpurgis Knights with twenty minutes to spare on Saturday. This time, seeing Tom doesn’t quite put the fear of Merlin in me, which is an improvement. The bar, of course, is closed, so I head to the employees only entrance.

Tom is leaning against the wall, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. I watch as he brings the cup to his lips, purses his lips together and blows, before taking a careful sip. He really is rather pretty.

At least this time he’s wearing clothes. He’s wearing a sleek pair of dark grey trousers, with a matching grey t-shirt that is just tight enough to stretch across his chest in a way that shows it off nicely.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?” He turns his head slightly, and I blush.

“No.” Oh my God, I sound like a moody teenager. I clear my throat and try again. “Good afternoon Tom.”

He looks at me, his eyes dark and intense. “I’m surprised you’re here, I half expected you to blow me off.”

I frown at him. “I replied to your owl, I said I would be here.”

He looks thoughtful. “A man of his word,” his eyes drift to my stomach and smirks, “sometimes.”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I am not going to fight with him. I am going to be a grown-up. For now.

He smirks as though he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Come in then,”

I breathe out a small sigh of relief as Tom pushes himself off the wall, turning to open the door. I follow him inside. There’s a quiet hum of chatter, the sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor.

I pause to quickly poke my head into the bar area. There’s a small skeleton crew of people working diligently, re-setting tables and chairs.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” There’s a note of pride in Tom’s voice.

“It does,” I agree softly. I tear my eyes away from the bar, so I can see Tom more clearly. “You’ve done a great job on this place.”

“Thank you,” is all he says.

We troop up the stairs to his loft. A week has passed and I do not feel any fitter than I did last week with these stairs.  Once we reach the top and pass through the wards, I head straight for Tom’s leather sofa and sink down into it.

“You OK?” he asks.

“Mhm,” is the best I can do in response. I have a sudden image of me, walking up those stairs with a cranky toddler in tow. I throw an arm over my eyes, nope. That is a horrifying image. No child is going to want to climb those stairs.

“You may have a point.”

I drop my arm in horror. “I -,” Shit, I didn’t mean to say that last part aloud.

Tom shakes his head at me. “You’re right. This loft — the bar, none of it is very child-friendly.” He pins me with a look. “Speaking off…”

I scratch behind my ear. “Nothing has changed since last time.” I drop my hands into my lap. “I won’t be able to tell you anything new for another three weeks at least.”

Tom nods, though he doesn’t look pleased. “How are you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” which is true, “The baby is fine too, the Healer is pleased with both of us.”

“Good.” Tom relaxes into his chair, throwing an arm over the back of it. “I like to make sure that the things that belong to me are taking care of themselves.”

I bristle at that. “I am not yours.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “Does Cedric know yet?”

I glare my best death glare.

“Your relationship with him depends on me not telling him our little secret—so yes, I do own you right now.”

I gape at him. His smirk only widens. “Tea?”

**Author's Note:**

> I promise, hand on heart, that I have not forgotten about my 65 other WiP's. 
> 
> Everything will be finished and updated (including The Crime Lord's Husband, I swear.)
> 
> Right, I just have to, sit down and be productive. 
> 
> Or I could go and play Flight Rising for a couple of hours. Hmmm......


End file.
